


The Meaning of Christmas

by makingitwork



Series: Bughead Prompts [60]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst and Fluff, Bughead Secret Santa, Christmas, Christmas Feels, Christmas Movies, Christmas songs, Editor betty, Established Relationship, F/M, Feels, Fluff, Gift, Gift Exchange, Happy Ending, Jughead is smitten, Protective Jughead Jones, SO MUCH FLUFF, Secret Santa Exchange, Supportive Relationship, Surprises, Tiny bit of Angst, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Varchie Background, a lot of quotes from christmas movies, betty is smitten, bughead - Freeform, they miss each other, writer jughead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-13 06:59:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16887807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makingitwork/pseuds/makingitwork
Summary: Betty and Jughead are in different cities this Christmas.





	The Meaning of Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> x

"Five o'clock: solve world hunger, tell _no one."_ The Grinch drawls in a smug, excited voice and Betty smiles briefly at the screen as she uses the candy cane to mix her hot chocolate. She doesn't want to dirty a spoon, but she also wants to imbue the taste of Christmas into her beverage. It's Christmas Eve, and she's all alone. Well, no, not alone, she has her cat Marmalade and the Grinch. Their penthouse apartment is  _stunning._ It's so beautiful that Betty can almost try to forget her sorrows. Veronica had hired a specialist decorator for the Christmas season and there are wreaths hanging on every door: dark, mossy and sprinkled with little specks of glitter. There's a huge tree in the living room, right near the floor-to-ceiling windows that look out onto their balcony and New York city beyond. Betty's not sure whether the tree is real or not. It smells deliciously of pine, but doesn't seem to shed. Trust Veronica to spread magic through style. There's a purple and gold colour scheme in the living room, red and green in the bedroom with plump red cushions and thick green blankets, and then silver and blue in the kitchen and hall. 

Their home looks like something out of a catalogue. Something Betty would have  _yearned_ for when she was younger, and now...now Jughead isn't even here to share it with her. 

She sniffles, and tries to distract herself by wondering whether or not jazzercise is a real exercise or something the Grinch has just made up, as she finishes her stirring and then sticks the warm candy cane in her mouth, sucking the sweet flavour and hints of chocolate off. She curls her hands around her mug of steaming chocolate; it's topped with marshmallows and a sprinkle of cinnamon. Jughead makes it better than she does, but he's not...here. The blanket over her shoulders sweeps across the hard wood floor like a regal cape as she pads into the living room, closer to where the Grinch is now getting ready to visit Whoville. 

Soon enough, she's cuddled into the corner of the sofa, blanket cocooned around her, her favourite fluffy socks and her warmest Christmas sweater on. The Christmas tree lights twinkle slowly and reflect off the window, casting little penumbras in various directions. The stunning, ornamental baubles on the tree spin slowly and they look like little planets orbiting the galaxy of ferny pine. She gets lost in it for a second, before taking a sip of her hot chocolate and easing into the cushions. Marmalade meows loudly, before jumping up onto the couch beside her and nuzzling in near her feet. 

She smiles. That's nice. She can settle in and watch the Grinch and not think about how lonely she is. She wants to call Veronica or Archie, but she knows they're having a romantic Christmas Eve together and she doesn't want to ruin the mood. The same with Polly and Jason, and Betty does  _not_ want to call her mom. Kevin's with Moose, and Nancy from work would think it was odd. Actually, she really wants to call Jughead. But he's currently at Lake Champlain, stuck there for work and even though they'd promised to be together this Christmas- they're not. She'd said she was fine with it, and she had been at the time, but now that it's Christmas Eve, and the evening sun is winking goodbye to her and he's not  _here-_ it hurts. 

She can remember his voice on the phone, despondent and apologetic, the way he'd said if she wanted, he'd quit and leave right then and there- but she hadn't wanted that. Really, she's being a baby, that's all. It's just a day. They can celebrate when he comes back, have a belated Christmas. That's just fine too. She nibbles on the edge of the candy cane, willing herself to believe it as the Grinch causes more mischief. Marmalade is snoring. Everything is quiet and outside, over the balcony, the final shimmers of sun are beginning to disappear. Sunset at five thirty pm. She sighs and tries to swallow her emotions with more peppermint hot chocolate. Before she'd settled on The Grinch, she had been watching Friends, but unfortunately stumbled onto the episode where Monica and Chandler are separated over Christmas. She doesn't want to think about Jughead with some ex-beauty queen, even though she knows he would never do anything. She doesn't want to think about their distance at all. It hurts too much. She wants to watch the Grinch and mourn the sun. 

Betty's startled by her phone vibrating on the coffee table, and with an apologetic glance at Marmalade, she reaches for it, setting down her mug. Her ring tone starts singing:  _Santa Claus is coming to town! Santa Claus is coming to town! San-ta Claus is com-ing to tow-_ "Hello?" She answers, trying to get the frog in her throat out at the cloying effects of the sugar. 

"Betty?" Comes Jughead's voice, and a bright smile spreads across her face. The connection is a little tinny, a bit shaky, but it's him, and she feels her heart beat harder in response. 

"Juggie," she grins, snuggling back into the couch, phone pressed tight to her ear. "Hey, is everything okay?" 

He snorts into the phone and Betty closes her eyes to better picture his face. "Yeah, I just missed you."

She nods, echoing the sentiment. She wants to say it back but she also doesn't want to start crying. "The connection's kinda bad," she points out instead.

"Yeah, sorry, baby, the hotel they've put me in is  _awful._ I can barely connect to the wifi and  _The Hateful Eight_ keeps freezing on their television. Bad enough that the screen's so small but now they can't give me decent Tarantino?" He shudders audibly. "What about you? What are you up to?" 

No ex-beauty queens, then. She can picture him on a crappy hotel mattress, his lanky frame too tall for the bed like it always is when they go to hotels. His ankles always pop off the edge. She hugs the blanket tighter around her and watches the television. "I'm watching the Grinch and drinking hot chocolate." She takes a breath, "Definitely missing you." She can hear him open his mouth to begin apologising again, but she doesn't want to hear it. She's afraid if she does, she'll cry over how much she really does crave him here beside her. "Anyway," she forces, keeping her voice bright, "Tarantino, Juggie? Really? On Christmas Eve? Not very festive."

His chuckle is music to her ears. "Um, Betty, the Grinch  _steals_ Christmas, you know?" He points out, and it's her turn to laugh. "I can see it, you know. You're probably on the couch in some ridiculous sweater and Marmalade is being a nuisance."

Betty strokes down Marmalade's back defensively as the fat car purrs. "He is an angel," she insists with a grin, because Marmalade may be a little stubborn and insistent, but he's a good cat. "And I am wearing a Christmas Sweater." She beams, proud as punch. "It has a Gingerbread Man on it, if you must know." 

"You don't even need to send me a picture," Jughead hums, "you look beautiful."

Betty flushes pink, and scratches behind Marmalade's ear so he purrs loudly. "You can't even see me."

"Yes I can," he insists, "every time I close my eyes. It's like you're right here with me." The poignancy crackles over the line between them but it's still enough for Betty to feel a wave of love wash over her. For a second, she doesn't feel so alone. He's so romantic. So thoughtful. She turns to look under the tree and can see the presents he'd bought her right at the beginning of December, like he could hardly wait for her to open them. His wrapping is a little sloppy, but he's been rocking on his heels with excitement over how she might react. She hopes what she's gotten him makes him as happy as he'll no doubt make her. Her gifts are stunningly presented- bows and ribbons and neat wrapping, stacked in height order. She'd spent ages searching for the typewriter and the compatible sheets of ink and she hopes he loves it.

"You're so romantic," she teases, but she means it, and he laughs. 

"Okay, I can change the movie. How about  _A Nightmare Before Christmas._ That's a pretty good compromise, right?"

She shakes her head fondly. He's so halloween. He's so macabre and yet so sweet. "How is it possible that you're such a Prince of Darkness and yet an absolute darling?" She asks, picking at a loose thread on her pyjama pants. 

Jughead huffs; affronted. "I resent that. I'm cool. Mysterious. You're the complex one. Nancy Drew meets Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, I mean c'mon, Betty, give a guy the chance to resist you. How was I ever supposed to be able to ignore how utterly irresistible you are?"

Betty blushes furiously. "Juggie," she scolds light-heartedly, but he barrels on heedlessly:

"And you don't even  _try._ You're just...just effortlessly brilliant. And beautiful. Do I tell you often enough how beautiful you are, Betty? Because you are. Every morning I wake up and I look at you and I think...well, first I think  _wow,_ and then I think  _Why is she with me?"_ He sighs. "What I'd give to kiss you right now." 

She could die right now and die happy. Pleasure and happiness flood through her veins and circulate into all the lonely parts of her. She wants to be in his arms and yet she's embraced by his words. He truly is a writer. "I love you," she murmurs, hoping it conveys the depth and fierceness of her love. 

"I love you too, Betts. Always have." 

She half-smiles. That's the truth, though it's still a little awing to believe. That he'd always loved her. Even after her misguided tryst with Archie and her on-again off-again relationship with Trevor, he'd always been pining and hoping that one day she might see  _him._ She still remembers the way he'd looked after he'd kissed her. She'd been so surprised, so stunned, sitting in the dusty files of the  _BlueandGold_ room, and he'd pulled back and looked...he'd looked so  _happy._ Like he'd finally done something he'd always wanted to do, and she'd realised that like all those flawed protagonists, she'd been looking for love in the wrong places. 

He'd been right there, all along, with greasy burgers and sarcastic quips. "I wish we lived in Halloween Town." He sighs longingly and Betty let's out a startled guffaw. 

"I'm very glad we don't." She declares, and can practically hear his eye roll. 

"You'd make us live in Whoville." He points out accusingly. 

"Don't act like you wouldn't love it," she teases, " _The Whos young and old would sit down to a feast, and they'll feast and they'll feast. And they'll feast, feast, feast, feast. They'll eat their Who-Pudding and rare Who-Roast Beef. But that's something I just cannot stand in the least."_

"Oh no, you're speaking in rhyme." He finishes, which is proof enough to how much he listens to her. Betty knows he'd never seen the Grinch until they'd started dating, in fact, he'd never done much in the way of Christmas at all. It wasn't a very festive time on the Southside, and even though he was friends with Betty and Archie and Veronica, he spent Christmas with his dad cooped up in the trailer park and watching old comedy re-runs on free view. She remembers decorating their first tree together in her college dorm room, and how all her roommates had gushed over how cute her boyfriend was. She remembers showing up to Jughead's dorm in second year as a surprise and the way his jaw had dropped and he'd kissed her right there in the hallway in front of everyone until their wolf-whistling finally brought back his usual shyness and aversion to PDA. "I don't eat that much," he points out, bringing her back to reality, and she snorts incredulously. 

"Because of you, we  _never_ have Thanksgiving leftovers. We are the only people in the world not to have Thanksgiving leftovers." 

He hums contemplatively. "What do you think is in Who-Pudding? I'm kinda hungry now. Do you think it's Whos? Is the Grinch rife with cannibalistic undertones? Because if so, I might have to change my rating of how much I like it." 

"Oh yeah," she drawls, "cannibalism definitely raises the bar." 

"Okay, this conversation really is making me hungry. I think I'm gonna order some pizza or something." 

"No!" She whines, as Marmalade licks at her cheek lovingly. "No pizza. It has to be something Christmassy. Have some mince pies and mulled wine."

Jughead makes a noise of disgust. "What if I get a barbecue pizza with turkey on it? Turkey! That makes it Christmassy, right?" 

She rolls her eyes. "Sure." She snarks. He's silent, so she figures he's ordering on his phone and she thinks about last Christmas. "Do you remember last Christmas?" She muses aloud, "I made chocolate and nutmeg cookies every day. You drank all the eggnog and kept eating the cookies raw and-" she grins thinking about it, "-and Archie kept running after us with Mistletoe." She can still remember it. Christmas at Lodge Lodge down by Shadow Lake. The four of them together. It had been amazing. Nights in the hot tub, mornings making breakfast, hot cocoa, Christmas movies and friendship. They'd gone for long walks in the woods and Jughead had held Betty's hand and tugged her along so he could take photos of the different mountain views. 

She remembers snuggling up with him in those big, wooden four poster beds, buried underneath layers of thick, fluffy blankets, and the way his hands had never ever let her go. They'd been pressed together the entire season. She remembers her ears being so cold they were burning as the four of them watched the fireworks on New Years, and how Jughead had tugged his beanie off his head- much to Archie's amazement, and nestled it onto hers. 

Life isn't perfect, but love certainly eases the way. She wouldn't be where she was without Jughead, and he wouldn't be where he is without her. They go together. They were always meant to. She wishes he were here. 

"Ugh, the pizza isn't gonna be here for hours. What's the point of having such a remote resort? I can't believe I have to write an article about this." 

Betty blinks back tears and tries to keep any sadness out of her voice. "It's luxurious. The privacy, the view. Lake Champlain is gorgeous, Juggie, you should use it as inspiration for your writing." 

"Please," he scoffs, "there are no conspiracies here. Everyone's annoyingly shallow. I'd be much more inspired with you." 

She can't quite keep the sniffle out of her voice then, her breathing hitches and she hurriedly yanks the microphone away from her mouth but it's too late, because Jughead has heard her. 

"Betty?" He asks, concerned. "Are you okay? Are you crying?"

She wasn't, but she is now. Hot tears brim over the cusp of her eyes and begin to stream down her face. She misses him so much she  _hurts._ They've been apart from each other for longer periods than this, but it's Christmas, and even the Grinch causing havoc all over town isn't enough to make it better. Even Marmalade's big green eyes and the sweetest hot chocolate in the world isn't enough. "I miss you," she confesses, openly sobbing now. She feels small and lonely and this apartment is too big for just her. It needs Jughead's gangly arms and floppy hair. "I-I just wish you were here, and I know I said I was fine with it, b-but I just  _miss_ you and-"

"Betty," Jughead breathes. He sounds like he's in pain and she feels even worse, but she just buries her face in her knees and feels like a baby as Marmalade worriedly paws at her shoulder. "Oh god, baby, please, please don't cry," Jughead begs. His voice is all cracked and torn like it always is whenever Betty's hurt and she tries to wipe her face to no avail. "You know I want to be there with you more than anything in the whole world. Please, please, don't cry. C'mon, what would the Grinch say?  _Now you listen to me, young lady. Even if we're horribly mangled, there'll be no sad faces on Christmas."_

She manages a small smile, but all she wants is his arms around her. 

"You make me so happy, Betty," he whispers, voice warm and honest. "When I was a kid, I never thought my life would be this happy or amazing but it is and it's because of  _you._ You inject happiness, you just...you just create happiness wherever you go. You encouraged me to keep writing, to keep taking photos, you push me to be the best I can and you're always there for me. You're so brilliant and you're so strong and you're so resilient and tenacious- too tenacious sometimes, you know? Like when you actually stalked me that one time and ended up ruining your own surprise party."

Betty lets out a small, choked off laugh that time. She remembers that. She'd been so embarrassed. 

Jughead is emboldened by this breakthrough. "Or that other time," he continues, more eagerly. "When I thought you were planning to break up with me, but you were really just sneaking around behind my back to try and hide the fact you'd bought a cat."

She laughs again, teary but heartfelt. Poor Marmalade had been so confused. 

"Oh, I know," he murmurs, his voice moving to a softer, smoother lilt. "For no one but you, Betty Cooper." He clears his throat and she freezes, because he won't actually- " _I'm dreaming of a white Christmas. Just like the ones I used to know. Where the tree tops glisten, and children listen, to hear sleigh bells in the snow..."_

Jughead Jones sings for no one. Not even in the shower, not even humming the tune to a song under his breath. Not even _whistling._ But he is now. Her favourite Christmas song. She wipes her face and looks outside. It's snowing, and little white crystals are forming on the window of the balcony. His voice is melodic and gentle, dated in that older, more sophisticated way that music was like back in the 50s. Like an old record or Christmas at your grandparents house. She lets the sadness lift off her shoulders and watches the snow and lights from the tree. She feels her breathing calm down, and the tear tracks dry on her face. The Grinch is slowly beginning to realise the meaning of Christmas, and Betty is too. 

It doesn't matter that Jughead isn't here right now. What matters is that they love each other, and that love will reach the other no matter where they are in the world. No matter how far apart and no matter how long. She sits and she listens and she feels safe and loved and warm. When he's done, his voice tapers into a whisper, like he's shy and uncertain and she clutches the phone to her face because she needs him to know. "I love, Juggie," she says clearly, her voice free of sadness. "I love you so much." 

He breathes a sigh of relief. "I love you too, Betty. I want to be there with you more than anything-"

"It's okay," she insists, "really." She shifts, so she's lying on the couch now, blanket over her and staring up at the ceiling. "Sing me something else." 

He laughs, but doesn't deny her. " _Jingle bells, Archie smells, Pop's will save the day. Betty's smile, Ronnie's style, and Jughead's creme brûlée."_

She laughs so hard her ribs ache, and turns to the television, gasping with delight as the film nears its end. She quotes along with it, so Jughead can hear: _"Welcome, Christmas, bring your cheer. Cheer to all Whos far and near. Christmas Day is in our grasp, so long as we have hands to clasp. Christmas Day will always be, just as long as we have we. Welcome, Christmas. While we stand... Heart to heart… and hand in hand."_ It makes her feel just as fuzzy and warm inside as it did when she was a child. 

"You know, some people say the Grinch's heart grew three sizes that day," Jughead murmurs casually, and she giggles, curling onto her side as the end credits begin to roll. 

They keep talking. They talk about everything and anything. A few times, Betty dozes off but when she wakes up, Jughead's still there on the other side of the line, talking about a vast number of topics and she can dip right back into the conversation. They reminisce about their high school days, and ponder on what Veronica and Archie are getting up to. They talk about what the New Year might bring, and how Jughead is going to kiss her till they both faint when he comes home after Boxing Day. 

They talk until it becomes pitch black outside, until the snow has built up a little and is about half an inch thick.  _It's a Wonderful Life_ has started, but Betty isn't really watching it. She's finishing off her candy cane and rubbing Marmalade's stomach as Jughead teases her about the time she accidentally stood him up at a restaurant. "I mean, who'd have thought? The kindest girl in the world just left me sitting there for a whole hour!" He exclaims, and she laughs. 

"I told you, I completely forgot! I would never have stood you up! I went to the wrong restaurant, I thought  _you_ stood  _me_ up."

Jughead scoffs. "Like that could ever happen- oh shit-" she frowns as she can hear rustling and clanging on the other side of the line. "My pizza's here! Finally! Be right back, Betts!" And then the phone is being set down and Betty can't hear anything. 

She looks over at the clock and her jaw drops. It's almost midnight. They've been talking for over six hours. The time has flown by. She's done it. They've done it. They've survived Christmas Eve despite the pain of being apart. Only two more days until he's back. Her heart flutters at the thought. 

There's a sharp knock at the door.

Betty jumps with surprise, before getting up and running her fingers through her hair. Oh god, who is it at this time? Probably one of her neighbours. Mrs Leanne from downstairs comes up quite a bit- every time she sees a spider, for example and Betty rolls her eyes at the thought of having to run around the old woman's bathroom with a glass and some paper trying to catch a spider, when all she wants is to talk to Jughead until she falls asleep. 

She pulls open the door, and-

and-

and she just stares.

Because it doesn't- it doesn't make sense.

Jughead is standing there.  _Jughead_ is home. He's- he's here! He's covered in snowflakes, little white dots, wrapped up in a winter coat and smiling with his twinkly eyes. She stares. 

He laughs, deep and full bodied. "It's not Christmas yet," he breathes, waving around his watch-clad wrist excitedly. "I made it!"

He's here. He's here. He's  _here._ She lets out a little cry of relief, and tears come anew to her eyes but for happier reasons. She leaps into his arms and he lifts her up, clutching her so tightly she thinks she'll bruise but she doesn't care. He carries her inside, kicking the door shut behind him, and he's so cold but she doesn't dare pull away just in case he disappears. When he sets her down, it's in the living room, and he brushes her hair out of her face and cups her jaw; kissing her softly and slowly. 

He doesn't pull away. He coaxes her lips apart and he tastes of snow and rain and coffee, and she melts into him. She can feel his smile on her lips, and when they finally pull away, they're gasping for breath. "How..." she asks, eyes wide, as she presses her fingertips to all the spots of snow and snowflakes on his cheeks and in his hair. "How are you- this whole time..." he's been on the phone to her this whole time. 

"I called you as soon as I was in my car," he confirms, and she presses a hand over her heart just to check that it's still beating. He looks so smug and pleased to have surprised her, and he kisses her nose. "Betty," he scolds lightly, "did you really think I'd let us spend Christmas apart?" 

Betty remembers something about that Friends episode. Chandler comes home. She whacks Jughead's shoulder but he just tugs her in for another hug. And then a kiss, and then his icy fingers are on her waist and under her sweater and she shivers in the best way before something occurs to her as she's tugging off his coat. "Wait! Wait, oh Juggie," she groans, and he looks down at her worriedly. "I didn't- I didn't make anything! No Christmas dinner and-"

He tips his head back and laughs. It's full bodied and carefree and she feels him snake his arms around her and hold her close. "Betty, don't worry about it," he grins, winking. "We can order pizza."

She smiles, slow and delighted. "With turkey?" 

He nods. "The only way to make it Christmassy." 

They kiss again, and on the television Mary leans over the sticky milkshake counter, and whispers into George's left ear: " _George Bailey, I'll love you 'til the day I die."_

Betty looks up at Jughead's snow-kissed face and wraps her arms around his neck as he lifts her up and carries her into the bedroom.  _Me too, Mary._ She thinks.  _Me too_. 

**Author's Note:**

> Phew!!!
> 
> When I got @theheavycrown for the secret santa, I smiled because this lady- she has done so much for the fandom. She is such an integral, vibrant, wonderful member and she's so talented and brilliant, I was just so honoured to get the chance to give her something to show her how much she means to me and all of us bughead fans. She's supportive, kind-hearted and friendly, if you don't know her already- you should definitely reach out. 
> 
> I feel like this fic isn't enough to show her how much I care, but it's the best I can do. Just know that with every word I wrote, all I was thinking was: she deserves something amazing. She deserves to get back even a glimmer of the light she gives out. 
> 
> So, darling, Merry Christmas. I wish you happiness, success and magic not only for the year to come but every year thereafter. 
> 
> Mwah
> 
> x
> 
>  
> 
> PS And to all you other readers, whether you comment or not, you are sweethearts for clicking and reading. You've all made my experience in this fandom so brilliant and wonderful right from my very first story in this series. Merry Christmas you gorgeous beasts, and I hope you all get exactly what you want and that we're blessed with a very bughead-driven year. Thank you so much for every comment, click, kudos or smile. I am so grateful for you. It's not even Christmas, but you've all given me the best gift of all. Your love and support. 
> 
> Here's to more stories, here's to more bughead, here's to Christmas and here's to friendship. I hope wherever you are this season, whether you celebrate Christmas or not, you know how grateful I am for you, and that I love you dearly. 
> 
> If you wanna be friends, hit me up on tumblr @typing123 
> 
> MWAH again ;) (we appear to be standing under mistletoe)
> 
> x


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